Diary of War Syria Damascus

It was a winter evening, raining and almost snowing here. It is too cold. We were freezing, my Syrian soldier friend told me.

I went to seek some wood, to burn it. We need some warmth; we are here in this horrible weather, fighting al Nusra front and other kinds of terrorists.

What I found was sad, we know that: The original residents of this skirt of Damascus has been displaced because of the terrorists’ crimes, missiles, and other kind of torturing our people. But when you see and touch the memories of people who were living here, you can’t help yourself to not be deeply touched.

The house I entered in risky way under bullets of terrorists, was a house of Christian family. The takfiri terrorists forced them to leave. I saw their doodles. It was kids’ doodles on the wall, they draw the cross, flowers, and their names.

The other things you can notice are only destruction, ruins…there were pieces of a cabinet there with some papers…dreams of Syrian kids to study and having a great future. I took some of these pieces. It warmed my heart.

I swear my kids, my Syrian kids, to take revenge for you. Right now, no one in this site, just Syrian Arab Army and our enemy, the moderate terrorists.

I’m sorry for what you have experienced because of this war.

I am sorry but I promise I will take revenge for every kid in Syria.

To hell with west freedom, to hell with their fake human rights, and their bastard proxies terrorists here.

At that night under the raining sky I couldn’t burn the fire, but the fire was burnt inside my heart.